RSSWords and Music
Apr 10
Poetry, Reading, Uncategorized, Writing brooks, ginsberg, Half a league to the golden shovel in a red wheelbarrow or a straw hut and babies in the tomatoes or perhaps that black shoe, komunyakaa, national poetry month, plath, tennyson, the poetry archive, the sounds of poetry, williams No Comments
I read once, I wish I could remember where, that poetry, when written, is only half finished. That the true art in poetry comes from the exchange between writer and reader, and, in fact, is most complete when the poetry is read out loud. Perhaps it was the same place or perhaps another where I first learned the idea that poetry is a physical art, an art of the body; that more than pen on paper it is the air in the lung, the vibrations in the vocal chords that are the tools of this art.
I believe those two things, and I know that they are most true when they meet in the reader moving from silent review of the words to a full bodied declamation. Only then can the rhythms and the sounds truly be discovered, only then can the music of poetry be heard.
So today, I wanted to share with you some poetry recordings. I do, I think, aspire to bring you newer or lesser known authors, partly because I fear I can say nothing of value on the great and most well-studied of writers, but also because there are so many wonderful poets out there, and it is my hope to help you discover some of them. But, for today, it seems most appropriate to offer up some poems or poets you may well have heard of, but perhaps never heard aloud. Most of these come from The Poetry Archive, a fantastic non-profit.
Half a league, half a league, half a league onward: Alfred Tennyson’s “The Charge of the Light Brigade”
I love his full, sonorous voice, the scratch and pop of the recording.
Seven at the golden shovel: Gwendolyn Brooks’ “We Real Cool”
This poem is a staple in lower-level English courses, where teachers struggle to show students the beauty and validity of poetry. The first time I heard Brooks read this, it was as if I had come across an entirely new poem. The lilt and pause make this.
So much depends upon: William Carlos Williams’ “The Red Wheelbarrow”
This is a short poem, and so Williams’ reading of it is even more crucial–how he draws out some words, lavishing them with breath, and clips, staccato, through others.
Unbelievable faith in water: Yusef Komunyakaa’s “Instructions on Building Straw Huts”
I love the rolling rhythm Komunyakaa brings to this poem. In fact, I think I could happily listen to him reading just about anything.
Babies in the tomatoes: Allen Ginsberg’s “A Supermarket in California”
This is perhaps my favorite poem of all. It is one I memorized, reciting it slowly to myself. Then I heard Ginsberg reading it, and I let him teach me how it should be read.
You do not do, you do not do: Sylvia Plath’s “Daddy”
It is simple: you cannot know this poem until you hear Plath read it–her arch, expressive voice, the emotion she laces the words with, full to bursting, but tightly controlled.
A quick look ahead: I’m so looking forward to tomorrow, when Christina Gay will be our guest blogger. She’ll be taking a look at what it means to turn a poem into an art book.